


The Addict and The Agent

by AGizmo19



Category: Narcos (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bathtub Sex, Drug Abuse, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Drug Withdrawal, F/M, Heavy Angst, Kissing, Oral Sex, POV Third Person, Rough Sex, Shower Sex, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, no y/n, thigh riding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-25
Packaged: 2021-03-27 03:22:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30116424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AGizmo19/pseuds/AGizmo19
Summary: In 1993, Javier Peña finds himself in his hometown of Laredo, Texas awaiting his "trial" of sorts. In a club one night, he meets the most beautiful woman he's ever seen. She's much younger than he is, so carefree, angelic, and utterly perfect. She makes him forget about the terrors and regrets of Columbia.But she's far from perfect-- living in a man's world and struggling to prove herself in her STEM career. She's intelligent, hardworking, and stubborn. The perfect package.Except... she's an addict with a problem and she doesn't even realize it till it's too late.A/N: If topics of drug use hit too close to home, please do not read! The issues of sobriety and addiction hit very close to home and I wanted to get this story out there. It serves more as an AU while Javier is in the US; but nonetheless, it covers some heavy topics.
Relationships: Javier Peña & You, Javier Peña/Reader, Javier Peña/You
Comments: 7
Kudos: 19





	1. Molly

**Author's Note:**

> AHHHH I'm writing on AO3! This is my first fic on here. I used to write on Wattpad and Tumblr before I deleted my account. I'm also new to the Pedro Pascal fandom. But this chapter does deal with drugs, overdose, alcohol consumption, and smut. If these topics make you uncomfortable please turn away. 
> 
> Word Count: 3,996 words
> 
> Song Recommendations: Song - Malamente by Rosalia , Heaven is a Place on Earth by Belinda Carlisle
> 
> I also have a spotify playlist! Makes it so much more interesting: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1gW4arNBN65JSQZojYUNnA?si=4lHHRYX6Tx2HLcMjGnoOrA

The bar is much too overcrowded, but she doesn’t mind. She doesn’t mind the blazing lights, the sweaty bodies pressed together, the music vibrating every bone in her body. She can feel the man behind her, pulling her hips into his. The way his breath warms her skin as he whispers sexual promises into her ear. His lips kissing against the pulse point beneath her ear, sucking slowly while she presses back into him. She can feel his erection pressing against her ass, feel him growing harder. She knows she turns him on.

And honestly?

She’s bored.

She turns around, excusing herself to the bathroom. He knows she won’t be back, so he moves on.

The crowding bodies prove to be a challenge. She tries to squeeze her way through them, but they won’t move. She tries shoving them but it proves equally fruitless. Everyone is absorbed in their feelings-- no not the emotional kind. The kind where there’s a sensory overload in a crowded bar and you’re trying to commit every type of feeling to memory. Where you want to remember the feeling of your palms against someone else’s body, mapping them out through their clothes. When you want to know how your mouth feels dry but water can’t quench your thirst. How your ears can only focus on the deafening music and the bass turned up to shake the floor-- you can’t even hear the grunts and moans of couples dirty dancing. Who are you grinding on when it’s so dark and the strobe lights do little to highlight their features. Why does the smell of booze and sweat excite you when any other day would prove disgusting.

However, she doesn’t really care for any of that right now. Her goal is set on something else, and that’s getting to the toilet. Finally pushing past enough people, she arrives at the first stall, only to find it locked and occupied. She walks over to the second door and it swings open.

No one ever talks about how orgasmic it really is to piss after having to hold it in. 

Upon leaving the stall, she takes a moment to look at herself while washing her hands. Her loose curls are straightening out, cascading over her shoulders, but the flyaways are all over. She looks like she might’ve been fucked five minutes ago, but in all reality, she’s just having a good time. The makeup is a bit rough around the edges, but she looks even sexier now than when she left her house. Her skin is flushed and glistens from the sweat, giving her a glow. The gold, hoop earrings she wears make her feel utterly sexy and incredibly confident. Her lipstick is faded so she reapplies the red shade, smacking her lips as she glances herself over one time.

The low-rise jeans hug her ass perfectly and the red tube top she wears matches the stilettos on her feet. She’s surprised she’s worn the devilish shoes for so long; normally she’d be aching to take them off. But something about tonight is different. And she hopes it’s in the best way. 

Reaching into her back pocket, she grabs out her wallet. Quickly checking the stalls to make sure she’s alone, she reaches into the wallet, pulling out a small bag. It’s clear with a small press-seal at the top. Within sit two pills: one is blue and the other is a cream white. She knows she should only take one… but she feels greedy. She takes them out of the bag, swallowing them dry. Looking in the mirror once more, she feels like the sexiest woman alive. 

Swinging the bathroom door open, she’s reminded of where she is. A bar. On a Friday night. Alone. Just because I arrived alone doesn’t mean I need to leave alone.

The floor seems to have calmed down because it’s much easier to move. How long was she gone? Walking over to the bar, she makes sure to sway her hips, hoping to attract the attention of anyone that happens to look her way. Reaching the bar, she leans against it which pushes her breasts up. She waves down the bartender, taking a quick glance around the bar.

And she sees the most beautiful man. 

He’s not even looking at her, all she can see is his profile. From what she picks up, he has dark, brown eyes. The hair on his head is slightly disheveled as if he’s had a long day. His eyebrows are full and dark, just like the mustache sitting above his lips. His lips… they’re puckered around a cigarette while he inhales. He removes the cigarette, holding it between his index and middle finger. His fingers are long and think… the perfect for--

“What can I get a fine thing like you to drink?” Looking in the opposite direction of the very beautiful man stands another man, except he’s not nearly as beautiful. Eyeing him up, she realizes that this is the kind of man who wouldn’t care about her pleasure, but if he’s offering a free drink, she’s not one to turn it down.

“Shot of tequila.” She’s curt and she wants to get back to looking at the beautiful man. The man standing before her is tall and he towers over her. He has a big build with wide shoulders and jacked arms. His hair is dark just like the eyes raking her body. He wants her and while she can’t deny his attractiveness, she’s just not interested.

He orders two shots before turning to look back at her. He’s smiling wide, “So what are you doing all alone?”

“I’m looking for some company.” The bartender places the shots down and they both grab a glass. He raises his glass as if to cheers, but she’s quick to down the shot. 

“Wow look at you,” He quickly downs his shot, placing his glass down next to hers. He places down cash next to the glasses for the bartender. It happens to be way more than what the shots were worth, but maybe he’s just a generous tipper.

“Honestly, thanks for the drink,” she quickly pats him on the shoulder as if he was a dog being praised. “But you’re really not my type and frankly I’m just not interested. So go find someone else.”

His eyes widen, quickly going from hurt to anger. “Well fuck you then, bitch.” He spits the words as if they actually bothered her. If she was a few years younger, more naive and intimidated, she might’ve retorted back. But now? She really doesn’t care because she knows who she is… And that’s the baddest bitch in all of Laredo.

He storms off, not giving her a second glance as he walks onto the dance floor. She turns her head, automatically looking to the spot of the beautiful man. Her smile drops to a frown, quickly realizing he’s gone. Her heart drops, there go my plans.

“You know, it’s not polite to stare,” she turns her head so quickly she almost gives herself whiplash. Standing beside her is none other than the most beautiful man on earth.

“You know, it’s not polite to sneak up on people,” she smirks. Up close, he’s much more of a sight. She can see the crow’s feet adorning his eyes and the way his lips press together to hide his smile. She’s got jokes.

“Well, if I catch a beautiful woman staring at me, I have the right to ask why she’s staring, right?” It’s his turn to smirk as his eyes brazenly look her up and down. His pupils are blown wide, dark with lust as he nearly undresses her with his eyes. 

“I’m just admiring a beautiful man.” 

He’s taken aback by the response. Never in his whole life had anyone called him beautiful. Normally he would be opposed to it, but the way she says it and looks at him while saying it makes him soft. 

Clearing his throat, he waves down the bartender asking for a refill. “You want anything?” He looks at her, and a smile adorns her face. 

“Whatever you’re having,” she replies nonchalantly.

“So what are you doing here alone?” She asks once the bartender leaves to get the booze. He leans against the bar and it’s just now that she notices how tight his button up is. How low it is. She can see his chest, the show of his collar bones. She wants to tough him, feel his smooth skin and lick along his collarbone. She wants to move lower and--

“I’m just trying to have a night out,” He pauses as the bartender returns with their drinks. He takes a small sip before continuing. “But I don’t think neither of us really care about why we’re here.”

His voice gets deeper. And this time when she meets his eyes, he looks like he might just take her right there if he could. The heat that pulls between her legs is overbearing and she needs him.

“Well, I’m here to dance. You should join me.” It’s all she can say before raising the glass to her lips. Whiskey. Neat. It takes her a few gulps to take it all at once as if it were a shot. Meeting his eyes, she licks her lips, collecting the remnants of the whiskey. His eyes follow her tongue and the thoughts that fill his mind are anything but pure. 

She turns on her heel and walks towards the dance floor. She knows his eyes are on her ass so she does her best to seduce him to her. Bodies begin to crowd around her the deeper she goes, so she stops and turns around. He better be watching. She begins to sway her hips to the beat, running her hands up and down her body.

That’s when it all hits.

All at once.

Painfully.

Blissfully.

Suddenly the beat is slowed down and the lyrics sound like they’ve been reverbed. The lights are more intense and she’s suddenly aware of the key differences between the blue, red, and green. The sweaty bodies around her seem to fade away. Except for one body and it’s coming for her.

She blinks and she sees him standing before her, towering over her much smaller frame. His eyes are even darker and now he’s the one licking his lips. His lips are on hers when his hands fall to her hips.

She takes a second to react but slowly falls into him. Kissing him. Normally, she doesn’t care for kisses but maybe it’s the molly or maybe it’s him-- but his lips feel like heaven. They’re soft on hers but harsh when he sucks on her bottom lip before biting it. His hands are tight on her waist, which haven’t stopped swaying to the beat. 

He pulls from her, causing her to pout. “Hermosa, don’t look at me like that.” He releases his hold on her hips and she suddenly feels cold. No part of his body is on hers. And the room feels really cold despite all the bodies around them. She physically aches being so distanced from him. He’s looking at her, trying to read her. But she’s somewhere else. She’s gazing into his eyes but she’s not seeing him. 

“Dance with me.”

She turns around, his gaze setting a fire deep within her core. Either she’ll end up ripping off that damned button up in the middle of the dance floor or she’ll end up melting to the ground with how hot he makes her. 

Backing up into him, she feels his chest against her back and the mere touch of him calms her nerves. Grabbing his hands, she takes note of how dry, calloused, warm they are before placing them on her hips. His touch is much softer now but equally as welcome. 

She begins to sway to the beat, feeling him slowly move as he gets into the rhythm. Arching her back, her ass begins to press into him. His hips push even harder against hers as they sway side-to-side, feeling the music in their veins. His head falls to the crook of her neck, bring his hand up to swipe her hair to the side, giving him access to the soft skin on her neck. Placing his hand back on her hip, he makes sure to grip her tighter, pulling her impossibly closer. 

His breath fans over her neck, setting her nerves on fire. He’s teasing and she can’t stand it, especially considering the fact she can feel his erection growing against her ass. His lips slowly graze her skin, close enough that she can feel how soft his lips are but she wants more. Doing her best to entice him, she grabs his wrists, guiding his hands up her torso. His touch is featherlight with his fingers slowly tracing her curves. She doesn’t quite let him reach her breasts because if he’s going to tease her, she’ll tease him right back.

When his hands are once again gripping her hips, he pulls her closer. In this battle of teasing, he caves and begins to grind his hips into hers while simultaneously nipping and sucking on her pulse point. She’s putty in his hands and she’s craving the friction on her ass. She pushes back against him, grinding against his cock. The clothes serve as a barrier, preventing their desires.

“Baby--” He nearly growls it while she moans out at the feeling of his lips harshly sucking on her skin. “Let me take you home.”

She turns around in his arms, coming face-to-face with the man. His eyes are lustful as they stare down at her, taking in her cleavage through her shirt. She’s staring up at him with doe-eyes as she wraps her arms around his neck, pulling softly on his hair. She looks so innocent with her eyes glossed over… Glossed over? How much did she drink? He can’t help but think.

“Mine or yours?” 

The second she’s done speaking he’s on the move, pulling her along as he moves through the crowd. He has a much easier time maneuvering through the crowd, something about this man just exudes power and no one wants to cross him. She can’t help but wonder what it’s like to be on the receiving end after pushing his buttons for hours on end. How rough he’d be…

It’s not long before they’re at his car, a black Jeep. Couldn’t imagine him driving anything else. Being the gentleman, he opens the door for her, helping her into the seat. He almost wants to buckle her up, a protective part of him coming out-- a part of him he didn’t even know existed.

Hopping into his side, he starts the car. Music immediately starts blasting from the radio and he goes to shut it off but she stops him. Their eyes meet, and it seems as if a whole conversation passes between them:

What are you doing?

It’s too loud.

I fucking love this song.

You’re something else.

The current song just so happens to be “Heaven is a Place on Earth” by Belinda Carlisle-- a song she hasn’t heard in years. The song screams 80s but in her mind, she already feels like she’s in heaven.

She’s staring out the window, staring up at the city lights while he drives. She doesn’t know it, but he’s staring right at her. It’s hard to concentrate on the road when she looks like a goddess. She rolled down her window and she’s sticking her head out. The window blows through her hair as she screams the lyrics out on the top of her lungs. 

“Ooh, baby, do you know what that's worth?”

She turns to look at him, a twinkle in her eyes. He almost forgets to breathe. Her smile is contagious and he can’t help the chuckle that comes out.

“We’ll make heaven a place on earth!”

She’s actually crazy. In the best way imaginable. 

She’s so carefree. She hasn’t seen how fucked up the world really is.

In her head, she’s performing in a music video. She’s singing the lyrics knowing fully well that they’ll actually put the audio over her. So it doesn’t matter if she sounds awful.

The orange street lights are the production lights shining down on her. The occasional red tail light is the camera hitting record. The music is an extension of her, her body. The way that she feels utterly amazing.

Euphoric.

She forgets to breathe after holding a line too long. The wind breezing past the car suddenly feels like it’s choking her so she leans back in, rolling up the window. She suddenly remembers she’s not on a movie set, she’s in a car with a beautiful man who can’t stop smiling at her.

“What’s your problem?” Her voice sounds more slurred than she meant it to be. 

“You’re my problem,” his words would’ve been harsh, but the way he’s still smiling-- she could never get mad at him. “Sticking your head out, singing on the top of your lungs.” He shakes his head, looking at her in the eyes for a split second before turning back to the road. “You’re fucking amazing.”

The last part catches her off guard and she begins to laugh. He soon joins her and she notices the dimple on his cheek. She wants to poke it. So she does.

He pauses his laughter to stare at her, looking between her and the finger pressed to his cheek. Damn, every part of her is soft.

He wants to say something, but he’s eventually pulling up to the ranch. Chucho is away, visiting some friends. He would normally feel guilty about bringing home a girl like this, but everything about her is different. 

He shifts the car into park, running around to the other side to open her door. He extends his hand out to her, helping her out of the car. She smiles up at him, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. 

“Ever so the gentleman,” she says. He can’t help but chuckle. No one has ever called him a gentleman. 

He turns to walk towards the front door but quickly halts as she trips over herself. He barely catches her in time, grabbing her forearms to prevent her from hitting the floor. 

“I-I’m sorry…” she mumbles. She can’t even look at her eyes. He helps her to stand up, looking her over. Her hair is a mess from sticking her head out the window while he drove 60 in the streets. Her eyes are still glossy, and her pupils are dilated. 

He guides her to the door, holding onto her arm. 

But she falls into a fit of giggles, almost falling again. He once again barely catches her but decides she’s not even going to make it inside the house at this rate.

Sweeping her off her feet, literally, he carries her bridal style to the door. She won’t stop her giggling fit, turning into him to try and suppress the laughter. It works-- because she inhales a scent that is unmistakingly him. It’s his cologne, the whisky, the bar. It’s all over him and she can’t get enough.

As he unlocks the door, she decides to reach up to his neck. Pressing her lips softly against his collar bone that peeks out from the collar, he inhales sharply. The kiss is soft and almost innocent, but she’s a sexy girl who is still trying to tease him. The kiss evolves quickly as she begins to suck alongside his neck, occasionally sticking her tongue out to taste the sweat on him. 

“Baby-- god, stop.” He’s rough on the last part. She automatically pulls away, looking up at him. When he looks down at her, he wants nothing more than to fuck her against the door. Hear her moans as he pounds into her relentlessly. The thoughts start flooding his brain but he has to quickly snap out of it.

“Did I do something wrong?” Her voice is soft, timid even.

“No-- I just don’t want to have to fuck you against the front door.”

They both laugh at that and he reaches for his keys, unlocking the door and stepping inside. He kicks the door shut behind him and begins to walk towards his room.

He doesn’t realize it, but she’s staring and trying to remember every detail of his face. The way his five o’clock shadow is beginning to set in, and she wants to feel it between her thighs. The way his eyes scan the dark home and she wants his eyes on her when he fucks her. The way his lips are always in an ever-so-slight pout and she wants to kiss them.

By the time he reaches his room, she’s almost drooling. He sets her down on the bed, kneeling before her. He unstraps the stilettos from her feet, noting how painfully tall the heels are. How do women walk in these? He doesn’t meet her eyes, he can’t.

When he goes to stand, he’s startled by her hands on his cheeks, pulling him to her. Her lips press to his. Hard. Fast. She’s kissing him like it’s her last day on earth and god… her lips are so soft. The way they move against his, sucking harshly on his bottom lip. He can’t help the way his tongue presses against her bottom lip, asking for entrance. She moans into the kiss when his hands grab onto her hips and pull her to stand against him. Their bodies feel like they melt into one… where one starts and the other ends is an anomaly. She moans once more when he holds her tighter, allowing his tongue to roam her mouth. It’s filthy, the noises he pulls from her by just kissing her. 

“I-I don’t even…” she slurs into his mouth, slowly pulling away to look at him. “Your name.”

She says it like it’s a question, as if she formed a coherent question. He snaps out of the spell she put him under and suddenly remembers the situation. 

“You’re fucking wasted.” His words sting. He didn’t have to be so harsh. He walks around her, pulling the sheets, back and gesturing to the bed. “I’m putting you to bed.”

“You--you…” She tries, really tries. But words aren’t easy. “Should b-be… in my bed…” He takes her hands, guiding her to the bed and sitting her down on the edge. 

He kneels before her once again, looking up at her. Those glossy eyes. That distant stare. He knows going forward with his dick isn’t the right thing to do. By just looking at her, he feels that protective surge. He’s glad he’s the one to take her home, even if he’s not getting laid.

“You need to sleep,” his voice is raspy. Exhausted. She knows she’s pushed his buttons, but not in the way she wanted to. Nodding, she begins to unbutton her jeans, pulling the zipper down.

As she stands to pull them down her legs, he turns away. A part of that stings. Why won’t he just look at me? Because he’s respectful. 

Tossing her jeans to the side, she sits back on the bed. Her mind is still elsewhere but she manages to lay down, closing her eyes. She hears him move, shuffling closer to her. She wants him to lay with her, hold her again so she can smell his cologne. But he won’t. Instead, he grabs the sheets and pulls them over her body, tucking her in. It’s so paternal of him.

“Tell me a-a… b-bedtime stor-story?” He laughs at that. He smiles down at her with her eyes still closed. She looks like an angel, one that he doesn’t deserve. Leaning down, he presses a kiss to her forehead. It’s quick and he questions his action the second he leans away. 

“Next time.”


	2. Oxy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A week has passed since their encounter and they can't stop thinking about the other person. Eventually, they find themselves experiencing a sense of deja vu.
> 
> Warnings: jokes about age difference, smut (thigh riding, vaginal sex, brief handjob?)
> 
> Word Count: 5,359 words

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So according to the internet, in 1993, Javi would be 45 years old. But because I am me, in my AU-- he is merely 37 because I didn’t want the age gap to be huge. Also, mainly because I am only 20 years old (NOT EVEN OLD ENOUGH TO DRINK IN THE US) but I am in love with a 47-year-old man. So please note that this does involve age differences.
> 
> Song Recommendations: "The Hills" by the Weeknd & "Can't Feel My Face" by The Weeknd
> 
> Once again, shamelessly plugging my spotify playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1gW4arNBN65JSQZojYUNnA?si=RDdiZOZ4QCu1Vc0duE69sA

She was back at work in the office… a stingy office space with the bustling of typing and fans. It was always cold in the office, no matter what the outside temperature was. In order to keep the endless desktops from overheating and internal fans from overworking, the AC worked overtime to ensure a consistent sixty-five degrees Fahrenheit at all times. To some, this wasn’t cold, but to her, she always made sure to bring a spare jacket-- even when it was a hundred degrees outside. 

Typing away at her screen, she can’t seem to finish the program she’s been working on for hours. Her degree from school was a Bachelor’s of Science in  _ Computer Science  _ from Rice University-- arguably the one of the most competitive schools in Texas. The private company she worked for often spent hours developing new programs for the use of other private companies. Sometimes she coded financial software, other times she worked alongside educational researchers to develop “educational video games” for students. 

She was one of the best in the company, but no one ever regarded her as such. Being the only girl in the room, especially in STEM, it was lonely and often unrewarding. She was passed up for promotions and raises, purely on the basis of her gender. It was unfair having to watch those who didn’t work nearly as hard as her get promoted to higher status. Having worked here for 3 years, basically since graduating, she hasn’t received a single raise or promotion. But she’s the best and they all know it. No one will admit it. 

Yet, for once, the code doesn’t come easily. Her mind is still reeling from the weekend. Waking up alone. In an empty house. 

_ Her eyes did not flutter open when she woke up. They flew open as she sat up, out of breath as if she just ran a marathon in her sleep. Frantically looking around, she was met with the strong sunlight shining through the blinds. She didn’t recognize the room she found herself in. She was alone in the bed, tucked away into the right side of the bed. The left side of the bed was perfectly untouched-- she was alone all night.  _

_ Suddenly, the memories flood her brain. The bar… The drinking… The dancing… The bathroom… The beautiful man. _

_ “Oh fuck.” She immediately scrambles out of the bed, nearly losing her balance as she stands. Looking down, she realizes her pants her gone and she frantically scans the floor till she sees them lying folded on top of the dresser. Slipping them on, she can’t even bother to check her reflection, simply opting to comb her hair through her fingers. _

_ She grabs her heels before sitting on the bed to slip them on. Looking up, she finally notices the glass of water on the dresser and she’s suddenly dying of thirst. Gulping down the water, she notices the two pills sitting atop a folded piece of paper.  _

_ Acetaminophen. _

_ Or most commonly, Tylenol.  _

_ She tosses the pills back, swallowing the remains of the water before placing the glass down. She picks up the paper and gently unfolds it, somehow fearing the contents inside.  _

_ “You looked so beautiful asleep, I just couldn’t wake you up. Plus, I figured you’d have a nasty hangover. I hope you feel better. I had to run, but if you need anything…” _ _   
  
_

_ Below was a number-- his number. Followed by a signature of “-JP”--  _ fuck, I don’t even know his name _. _

_ She tucked the paper back into her jeans before standing, automatically fixing the bed. For some reason, she felt the need to make it look like she was never here.  _

_ Sneaking over to the door, she pressed her ear against the wood, listening careful for any noise. She didn’t want to walk out to find him going about his daily routine-- now that would make the walk of shame even worse. Upon hearing nothing, she slowly turned the knob before peaking out into the home.  _

_ She really couldn’t remember much of the home, especially because she was being carried like a baby to bed.  _ God, how embarrassing _. She was lucky no one was around to see how red she got.  _

_ As she snuck through the house, she suddenly realized the eerie silence was a clue for emptiness. No one was home. Well, except for her. She didn’t want to snoop so she ignored the picture frames and knick knacks, instead opting to find her way to the front door. _

The walk-of-shame was never so shameful or embarrassing. Normally, she took her partners to her place so she could knock out when it was over. They could show themselves out, but she didn’t mind the few who stayed behind to cuddle and sleep. Then in the morning, they’d fuck and they would leave. There were also the occasions where they didn’t even make it to the privacy of a home. Where they’d go at it in the bathroom of a bar or fuck in the backseat of the car over a lookout. 

Now was the rare occasion where she went to their place and she automatically decided she would never do it again. It was a mistake. Not because he was a gentleman and absolutely lovely and respectful. No, this was because she had to walk 2 miles before she even reached the city and was able to hail a cab to her own home. It was exhausting. 

Her heels never hurt so much and she debated taking them off but then looked at the dirt beneath her feet. The option was either dirt or asphalt and it was clear that heels would have to stay on. But it was a good workout.

Now she sits at her desk and she hasn’t typed a single thing for the past 10 minutes. It’s a good thing none of her coworkers are observant or else they would’ve thought she fell asleep. She didn’t need to sleep to daydream. 

The folded paper remained tucked in the pocket of her navy pantsuit. The pants while appearing bootcut, were tight around the ass and the jacket when buttoned, cinched her waist. She was serving looks, even if no one was looking. 

But this wasn’t about how she looked or felt, it was about that  _ damned _ piece of paper haunting her thoughts. She wanted to call him but worried about how awkward and weird it would be. It had been a week since they met and yet he still lingered in her mind. The way he looked at her with unadulterated want and  _ need _ . His hands with those lengthy fingers that squeezed her hips just right. 

What would she even say if she called? 

“Hey, sorry I was actually fucked up but I think you’re hot.”

“Hi, I’m the girl you took home on Friday and I just wanted to say hi.”

“Hi! Yeah, I’m the girl you almost fucked but I was high as shit.”

_ Don’t do drugs, kids _ .

Of all the nights for her to really lose it, it had to be the night the most attractive man she had ever met wanted to fuck her. And while she knew she had a problem, she couldn’t help but want to throw out her entire stash. 

She wouldn’t. It was too hard. Plus-- it’s not like it was hurting anybody, right?

What if he didn’t even mean for her to call unless it was an actual emergency? He specifically said “if you need anything” so perhaps he was still being a gentleman. Perhaps he meant that if she needed a ride home or if she had a horrible hangover she could call him for help. That the number was not an invitation for a date or a flirtatious gesture but just one out of genuine, human concern. 

Sighing, she realized she would never call. She would continue in this back and forth in her head. Going back and forth between the fact that she embarrassed herself in front of him and the fact that it was just a one night stand.

\--- <3 ---

In her heart, she knew she shouldn’t have gone out again but she couldn’t help it. She needed to get him out of her head and what better way than to get under somebody else. If she could get some action, then perhaps it would wipe her memory of the past week and she could get back to her regular life.

However this time, she promised herself no molly. 

But, that didn’t stop her from opening the hydrocodone and taking one. She knew oxycodone was much stronger and thus she opted for the “lesser” choice. It would relax her, ease the anxiety, make her feel like she’s in that comfortable moment in time where you feel yourself nodding to sleep but you’re really wide awake. 

Then she’d get to the bar and order a glass of coke. No coke and rum. Just coke. She knew pills and alcohol didn’t mix. That didn’t stop her the last time she was here. But she needed to be smarter. 

Not for her.

In the back of her mind, she almost _ prayed _ that she would see him again. That this time she would be able to tell him her name and actually get to talk to him. She wanted to be sober for that.

Well, maybe not completely. But she definitely did not want to be fucked up.

She sat at the bar alone, stirring the straw in her drink around as her eyes raked the dance floor. The music was loud again and it was only 11 o’clock, prime time for dancing. But today she didn’t want to dance because she wanted to find her man.

There were a lot of ifs that would have to happen in order for him to show. If: he felt like going out. If: he felt like coming to the same bar two weeks in a row. If: he already didn’t find some other gorgeous woman to take home. If: he even wanted to see her again.

Her heart clenched at that, and not in the good way. It stung.

“You know, if you were looking for me, you should’ve just called.” She can already hear the smirk in his voice as she turns around to face him. The barstool swings around easily to face him as he stands besides her, looking down into her eyes.

He’s wearing a black button up with his biceps stretching the fabric. His jeans wear a leather belt looped through and she wants nothing more than to grab him by the buckle and pull him close.

“Who said I was looking for you?” He’s taken aback by that. It brings her own coy smirk to her lips to watch him find his footing.

“Well, who else would you be looking for?” Now her mouth is agape, trying to come back with a snarky response. She’s dumbfounded. He lets out a light laugh before continuing, “You know, you hurt my feelings by not calling me.”

He’s light-hearted about it and she can hear the feigned hurt in his voice. It makes her smile while simultaneously feeling guilty for not calling when that’s all she wanted to do.

“I wanted to, but I uh-- I lost it,” she averts her gaze, suddenly feeling how dry her mouth is as she sips her drink. She knows he’s staring, trying to analyze her answer, her voice, her eyes, her everything. She’s quick on her feet to change the topic. “I don’t even know your name so.”

“Javier Peña, but you can call me Javi if you ask nicely.” He’s curt, flagging down the bartender to order his own drink. “Rum and coke?” He gestures to her drink, asking her for a refill but she shakes her head. 

“Just a coke,” she smiles at the bartender before they walk away to fulfill the requests. “So… Javi? Hmm…”

“Only if you ask nicely!” He shakes his finger at her and she swats it away. They break into small laughter, thanking the bartender for the drinks. “What’s your name then?”

She tells him her name, smiling up at him. She misses the twinkle in Javier’s eyes as he takes in the name. “I don’t actually have a nickname that I go by, unless you count “secretary”-- it’s what most of my coworkers call me because they can’t even bother to remember my name… or even the fact that I’m not an actual secretary.”

“Well if you’re not a secretary, what do you do?” Javi looks at her, taking note of how beautiful she looks, even in the dimmed lighting of the bar. He would never admit it, but he  _ prayed _ she would show up to the bar again tonight. He wasn’t able to get her out of his head. 

  
He figured at the very least he could find someone else. Help him get his mind off her. But this was by far the best case scenario: her alone, _looking_ _for him_ in the bar. 

“I do computer science-- it’s actually an up and rising career field. I mainly just create software for companies to make their lives easier,” she smiles at him. The way Javi’s brows cinch together tell her everything she needs to know: he has no idea what she’s saying.

“Basically, I just sit at a computer all day typing in a freezing office.”

“Ahhh okay.” 

“So now that you know how I spend my weekdays, what do you do?”

“I actually work for the DEA down in Columbia--”   
  


“Wait-- you’re fucking DEA?”

If the hydrocodone wasn’t pumping through her veins, she knew her heartbeat would have skyrocketed. But the fact there’s at least 325 mg of  _ fucking drugs _ coursing through her blood is freaking her out.  _ What if he’s undercover? What if he knows? _

“Yeah… I guess it’s kinda hard to bring that up without freaking people out,” he smiles warmly at her, obviously noting how frazzled his prior statement had made her. “But don’t worry, I’m not going to bust you for smoking pot.”

She actually laughs, allowing herself to calm down as she sips her drink. 

How did she manage to find a perfect man and he works for the DEA? What are the chances? Or maybe this is a higher power punishing for her sins. 

“Actually… the last time I did anything involving pot was in college,” she takes a sip before continuing, making sure to lick her lips under his watchful gaze. “It was a brownie my friend had made and it was absolutely awful. I have no idea what she did to it but it did not taste like a brownie-- I literally spit it out the second it hit my taste buds.”

The story draws laughter out from the both of you, and it’s hearty, the kind that makes your heart melt because their laughter sounds like a choir of angels.

“That sounds like a waste of pot,” he downs the rest of his glass, his tongue slipping out to lick along his bottom lip. Javi’s fighting fire with fire and it does something to her. 

His eyes quickly dart over her body, a million questions hiding in his eyes. “Actually, how old are you?”

She’s taken aback but replies quickly: “25.”

“Fuck you’re a baby.”

“Umm excuse me? How old are you?”

“37.”

“You’re a fucking dilf.”

They can’t help but laugh again. While they both acknowledge the 12 year age gap, neither of them mind. Two consenting adults can do whatever they want.

“So… dad I’d like to fuck? So you wanna fuck me?” Javier is smirking and it’s a perfect balance between a joking tease and a sexual tease.  _ The absolute duality of a man _ . 

“Well yeah,” it’s her turn to smirk.

“See if I’m a dilf-- I have gained experience throughout my years. Can’t say the same for you.”

He’s surprisingly sassy. This beautiful man with a beautiful name is full of many surprises. She wants to know every surprise.

“I may not have years, but trust me when I say I can prove my experience.” Their eyes are no longer playful but have turned dark. Javier’s eyes break the eye contact as bites her bottom lip-- he wants to kiss those lips until they’re swollen.

“We really never got to finish what we started now that I think about it…” his voice draws on, hinting at the sinful desire burning between them. Her eyes twinkle with mischief as she stands, placing a few bills on the counter to pay for her drinks.

“I think we should finish what we started.” She gently grabs the collars of his shirt, pulling him till his body pressed against hers. “But this time, we’re going to my place.” 

He gulps, nodding as he looks down, eyeing her cleavage pressed against his chest. Her sudden dominant tone catches him off guard and he can’t recall a time in his life where a woman ever attempted to take control. 

He likes it.

In no time, they’re in his car while he drives and she gives the directions. The air is thick with a sexual tension-- you wouldn’t even need a knife to cut it, some kiddie scissors would work. 

When they finally reach her building, she’s not sure if it’s worth waiting for the elevator or if it would be quicker to run up the stairs. She decides it's better to run up-- her loft apartment is only 4 stories. It’s not much, but the exposed brick is her style and the exposed wooden beams on the high ceiling provide a homey feel.

They’re both out of breath by the time they reach her door as she unlocks the door, flicking on the light. Javi closes the door behind her-- and suddenly she finds herself pushed up against it while his lips are on hers. 

If there’s one thing she didn’t regret from their previous encounter, it's his lips. His sinful, pouty lips that are perfect for kissing. The kisses are rushed and she’s never felt so aroused from just a kiss. The way his hands hold her hips with his body pressing her into the wall all the while her arms are wrapped around his neck while she pulls on his hair lightly. 

Javier moves his thigh between her legs, spreading her for him. The second he presses his thigh against her heat she let’s out a breathy moan. He feels his cock twitch at that-- he wants to hear her do it again. 

“Get yourself off.” The words are short and sweet but she gets the point. 

She begins to roll her hips, feeling the delicious friction of the action rubbing her clit. His fingers are squeezing her hips tight, guiding her actions and she’s never found herself so turned on by a man. His lips leave hers, trailing down her jaw until he reaches her neck. He starts off by pressing soft kisses but slowly begins to suck a mark on a particularly sensitive spot.

If she wasn’t moaning before, she’s definitely moaning now as she feels her core tighten.  _ How is it possible that this man can make me cum without even touching me? _ She would never say it out loud in fear it would inflate his already cocky ego, but damn, he does things to her body no one else has ever come close to.

“J-Javi… I’m gonna cum,” her voice is breathy as her hips pick up speed. The knot in her core is tightening as she continues to ride his thigh. 

“Then cum for me.” His words set something off inside her and she feels herself pushed over the edge. She feels her body shake as she cums and she stops moving her hips, but he grips them tighter to keep her moving as she rides out her high.

By the time she comes back down to earth, he’s staring at her in awe. It makes her blush and she finds herself turning her head to look away. If his hands weren’t on her hips, she definitely would have walked away. 

_ God… Did I really just… cum on his thigh? _

“That was the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.” She doesn’t have time to respond before he’s kissing her again. He’s rougher this time, more  _ needy _ . He needs her now. She can feel how hard he is through his jeans; his cock is aching for release. 

He could fuck her against the door-- he really wants to. But something tells him this isn’t the right time. He wants to treat her better than that. 

“Where?” He asks, pulling from her. The separation makes her whimper.

Grabbing his hand, she pulls him to her bedroom. Flicking on the room light, she’s suddenly reminded of how dirty she had left it in her rush to get out the door and to the bar. She blushes yet again, feeling embarrassed but he doesn’t seem to mind-- indicated by the fact that he’s pulling her to the bed and kissing her roughly.

She falls onto the bed, pulling Javier with her. The kiss is messy, tongues and teeth and lips and it’s hard to tell where she ends and he begins. She unbuttons his shirt, pushing it off his shoulders and he pulls it off. He begins to push her own shirt up, feeling the expanse of her stomach, letting his fingers graze under breasts and she releases a moan at the gentle touch.

She pulls her own shirt off, momentarily breaking the kiss to slip it over her head. In that moment, he takes her in, noting her swollen and red lips, her dark eyes, her beautiful tits, her beautiful  _ everything _ .

“Are you sure about this?” He asks and by the surprised look she gives him, he worries for a second that she might change her mind. 

“Javi, why would I invite you to my place, then let you inside, then cum on your thigh if I didn’t want this?” She’s smiling, but it’s clear by the glint in her eyes that she has never been more certain about anything in her entire life. 

She pushes him off her and onto his back as she straddles his hips. Sitting up straight, she reached behind her and unclasped her bra. It’s a simple white bra but as it falls down her arms, she looks like a fallen angel. Simultaneously so innocent and pure while being so sexy and sinful. He sits up and wraps his arms around her, holding her in place as he begins his assault on her tits.

He begins by taking one nipple into his mouth, licking it lightly before sucking harshly. She whimpers, feeling herself get more and more wet at the feeling of his tongue. He releases her nipple with a pop, moving onto the other one to give it the same attention.

She feels his cock pressing against his jeans, which just so happens to be on her core. She rolls her hips, feeling the pressure of his cock hit her clit just the right way. He groans at the friction, aching for more as she rolls his hips to meet hers. For a second he wonders if he would cum right then and there-- he probably could and  _ fuck, I’m not a teenage boy in high school _ . He scolds himself.

He drops his hands to her ass, kneading the soft flesh through her jeans. He feels an outline of her pockets and reaches his hand into the pocket, his curiosity peaked. Javier pulls out a folded paper and breaks the attention on her tits to bring the paper to both of their attention. 

She begins to blush again, having forgotten she still kept his number on her. She forgets that she had kept it with her all week. He unfolds it, surprise written all over his face as his eyebrows rise as he reads it over.

“Now, what do we have here?” He’s so smug. 

_ Maybe if I kiss him, he’ll just drop it _ .

She leans in to kiss him, but he dodges. “No baby, we are on pause.” She looks at him noting how soft his eyes are. She puts her hands on his cheeks, holding his face to look at her. She tries to kiss him again but he turns his head, laughing lightly. “Listen, as much as I want to fuck you-- I’m not passing up the chance to tease you about keeping my number in your pocket.”

“Fine!” she huffs, getting off him. She plops beside him on her bed, her arms automatically going to cover her breasts. Within seconds, he’s hovering over her, grabbing her wrists and moving them away.

“If you don’t want to talk about it, then just say so. But I also really don’t want to see you covering yourself up, especially when you’re so beautiful laid out like this.”

Her jaw drops, her lips partly agape.  _ He’s understanding too? _

“Well, I figured if I didn’t find you at the bar then I might give you a call… See if you were busy,” she bites her lips as she stares up at him. Slowly, her eyes rake down his body, taking in the expanse of his chest. He’s perfect-- his tan complexion and the happy trail leading into his jeans.

“Guess it worked out then.” His lips are on hers once again. He begins to roll his hips into hers, eliciting moans from her and he swallows them.

“I need you to fuck me right now.” 

In seconds, they’re ripping off the remaining articles of clothing. Returning to their missionary position and she finally gets a good look at his cock. It’s leaking pre-cum from the tip, and she wants to lick it up. She reaches for him, feeling how thick he is underneath the palm of her hand. He groans at the touch, craving more. She removes her hand, bringing it to her lips, spitting into the palm before returning it to his aching cock.

She slowly begins to move her hand up and down, watching as his lips separate and his eyelids flutter shut at the feeling. She twists her wrist, listening to the small moans fall from his swollen lips. He looks down at her, reaching a hand between them and slipping his index finger through her folds. 

Her mouth parts as she sighs blissfully, his finger swipes over her clit before going lower. She’s so wet, and he wants to lick it all up. But for now he has to settle for feeling his finger slip into her, feel how tight she is.

_ Will I even fit? _

After a few pumps, she’s rolling her hips into his, asking for more. He obliges, pressing a second finger in and she mewls at the stretch. She feels so tight and  _ fuck _ , the way her hand squeezes him perfectly is enough to make him cum. His fingers pick up their pace, curling upwards and rubbing against that sweet spot which nearly sends her over the edge. 

“Javi-- I need you to fuck me. Right now.” her tone is unforgiving and she gasps when his fingers withdraw, leaving her empty. The tone of her voice makes him twitch and she smirks, feeling him pulse beneath her fingertips. She guides him into her own core, rolling her hips upwards.

Javi presses his hips forwards, stretching her out deliciously until he bottoms out. Her walls are tight and warm and if he could stay buried inside her for eternity, he would. He leans down, pressing his lips to hers. The kiss is slower, giving them both time to adjust. For him, he worries if he moved he might just cum and he doesn’t know what makes him so weak and vulnerable when it comes to her.

For her, she’s relishing in the full feeling he offers as he stretches her out. She needs him to move so she moves her hips upward, feeling the hairs on the base of his cock rub against her clit. She moans into his mouth and without thinking, he jerks his hips out and slams back in. It was much more harsh than he intended to do but by the way she shuddered and nearly screamed, he realized he should keep it up. 

Javier starts up slowly, building a pace that has her begging for more. And how can he deny her anything? Especially with the way her lips are parted and swollen and her moans are ringing in his ears. He can’t help but watch her beneath him, drinking in her beauty. 

But he’s just a little too slow for her liking, treating her like she’s fragile. And she’s anything but that. Wrapping her legs around his waist, she pulls him closer before flipping them over. The air is knocked from his lungs as he stares up at her with wide eyes. 

She immediately starts rolling her hips, lightly lifting them up slightly to roll back down. The combined motions make his cock hit that sensitive part in her. 

“Oh… god-- Javi!”

She’s caught off guard by his hands on her hips, suddenly holding her in place as he fucks up into her. The speed is brutal and she feels his balls slap her ass and the sounds are anything but holy. 

“I wanna watch you cum on my cock,” his eyes lock onto hers with a twinkle in them. 

His words set something off inside her and she’s suddenly on the brink of her second orgasm of the night. She reaches her fingers done, rubbing quick circles on her clit. Pushing herself over the edge, she feels herself clench around his cock, beginning him to cum in her.

“Hermosa-- f-fuck. Where?” His words are urgent as his hips slam into hers, craving his own high while she rides hers out. 

“P-pill!”At that, he feels his hips still, releasing his cum into her. He can still feel her walls milking him as he pulses in her.  _ Fuck… That’s never felt so good. _

She collapses onto his chest, her fingers gently grazing along his collar bone. They lay there like that for a while as they catch their breaths, his arms wrap around her torso, holding her close. She feels him soften inside her and she begins to worry that she’ll fall asleep like that. Which by all means sounds amazing, but perhaps not now. 

She pulls herself from him, running to the bathroom to wipe between her legs using a cloth. She tosses him his own and he quickly wipes himself off before grabbing her again. Javier pulls her into bed while their legs entangle together. As they look into each other’s eyes, he doesn’t want to leave her bed. He wants to lie there in her arms and fall asleep.

“You know… you never did tell me that bedtime story,” the small smile on her lips makes him melt. He could never tell her no. 

“Okay fine,” he clears his throat, pulling the sheets above them. Laying flat on his back, he pulls her into him. She rests her head on his shoulder, loving the feeling of his arm wrapped snugly around her as their legs entangled. “So, one time in Columbia…”

Javier doesn’t even get to the good part of the story before she’s out. He took note of the way her lips were slightly ajar as she breathed in and out so slowly he could hardly notice. The way her face was so soft as her mind was free of stress and worry of everyday life. Her body is warm against his and it’s the good kind where you never want to get out of bed. 

Javier knows he should get out of bed and head back to the ranch. It would be easier now than in the morning. But damn. He can’t find the will to get up when she feels so comforting. Being with her makes him forget the reason he’s home. And honestly, he feels like he could be a better person-- that he was about to begin a new chapter. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think! I wanted to get the first two chapters out there all at once. But I think I'll try to stick to updating once a week. Any feedback is appreciated!


	3. Fenty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the aftermath of their first night together, the addict and the agent quickly fall into a routine. But what happens when old habits die hard?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is actually really short compared to the past couple. I wanted this chapter to serve as more of a transition than anything else. 
> 
> Warnings: smut (oral - male receiving), drug use/abuse, angst
> 
> Song Recs: "Mount Everest" by Labrinth & "House of Balloons / Glass Table Girls" by The Weeknd
> 
> Word Count: 3,022 words

The following morning, Javier woke with a start. Or better yet, an end. 

“F-fuck!” he nearly growled, tossing the sheets aside to watch her eyes look up at him through her lashes. Her lips were wrapped tightly around his cock, her tongue swiping along the underside. His hips jerked up into her mouth, feeling his cock hit the back of her throat as her hands wrapped around his base, taking what she couldn’t fit in her mouth.

Rolling his head back, he felt her hum around him making him moan at the sensation. Javier was on the brink of an orgasm, but he didn’t want to cum this way. He wanted to fuck her.

“S-stop baby,” he can barely get the words out. She stops her actions, pulling her lips from his cock, wiping the saliva connecting her lips to his tip.

“Is something wrong?” she begins to look frantic. “I-I’m sorry if that’s not what you wanted! I just thought I would return the favor from yesterday and I wanted to surprise you and I thought you would like it and--”

“Princesa, you’re rambling.” 

“Shit, I’m sorry. I was really just trying to do something nice for you and your dick was pressing into my ass for the past half hour--”

“Let me fuck you.”

Her eyes immediately widen, taken aback and he realizes he probably should’ve been more explicit with his words.

“Listen, what you just did was fucking amazing. Honestly, I almost came down your throat but right now, I wanna fuck you.”

His words send something straight to her core and she can feel how wet she is at his words. As much as she wants to straddle his hips and ride him, she started a mission that she wants to finish.

Wrapping her hand around his cock, she feels him twitch at her touch. Smiling to herself, she watches as Javier’s head rolls back as an inaudible moan falls from his lips. 

“But I really wanna taste your cum…” she plays the innocent card, looking at him as if there’s a halo around her head. As if she’s an angel only trying to do the right thing. “You tasted so good Javi, I want more.”

Looking through hooded eyelids, he can’t believe the smirk on her lips and the twinkle in her eyes.  _ Fuck, she’s perfect _ .

“Well honey, if that’s what you want. FUCK!” he almost cums right there as she takes him in her mouth without warning. Javier is on edge and he’s so close.

She acknowledges his very  _ gifted _ size and doesn’t even want to risk taking him all the way, so she settles for working him 50/50 between her mouth and her hand. 

She knows the way her wrist twists drives him crazy. She knows that he moans when she licks over his tip. Or how his hips thrust up when she hums around him. It’s honestly a surprise to him how attentive she is, how observant she is of his likes and they have only known each other for a little more than a week. 

Reaching her other hand beneath him, she feels his balls. Fondling the velvety skin between her fingers, she finally pushes him over the edge. He cums in her throat with filthy moans. His hips thrust up a little too harshly, causing her to gag as she attempts to swallow as much as possible. He tastes salty and she’s never been so turned on by having a man’s dick in her mouth. Honestly? It’s the first time she’s ever actually wanted to do it just so she can watch how beautiful he is when he falls apart.

A string of curses falls from his lips as he comes down from his high. She pulls away, using her index finger to wipe the saliva and cum from her lips. She maintains eye contact as she places the finger in her mouth, sucking the remnants off.

“Princesa, you’re going to be the fucking death of me.”

\--- <3 ---

It was easy to fall into a routine with her. Every Friday night, they met at the same bar. They flirted. They drank. They danced. When they finally had enough of their dirty dancing, he’d drive her home. They fucked. They slept. They awoke the following morning and fucked again. Then they’d drive to her favorite diner and grab breakfast. He’d take her home and sometimes he stayed if they didn’t have plans like cleaning or having guests. When he did stay, they’d watch the television on the couch and enjoy a lazy Saturday. They would share dinner and he’d kiss her goodnight before leaving. 

It was the best part of both of their weeks. The other 5 days of the week were spent aching to get back to the other. Yet, the casualness of it all was something new. It was oddly comforting while being a tad concerning. They never made plans to meet up, they just knew what they wanted and where they could find the other.

Things were really good.

When they were together, they could forget the rest of the world. Javier could forget the fact that he was jobless, doing miscellaneous chores on Chucho’s ranch. She could forget about the oxycodone running low in her medicine cabinet.

As much as she loved their weekend routine, she had to keep part of it hidden. Knowing that she was sleeping with a DEA agent made her more hyperaware of her problem but it’s not like oxy was illegal. She had a prescription for it after all.

When she awoke in the morning, she’d slip to the bathroom before he woke. She would open the medicine cabinet down it and return to bed. 

After breakfast, if he decided to stay the rest of the day, she would excuse herself to the bathroom and repeat.

If he stayed long enough to kiss her goodnight, she’d close the door before returning to the bathroom yet again.

They helped her function. 

Or at least that’s how it felt. 

\--- <3 ---

Javier still hasn’t heard anything about his pending case. Nothing from the review board, the DEA, even Murphy. He had half a mind to call someone and ask what was going on but he didn’t want to. While he wanted to continue his work, he wasn’t willing to give her up yet.

The way she made him feel was indescribable. Her smile could light up his world in a heartbeat. The way her eyes looked at him when he fucked her made him impossibly more turned on. Her soft breathing as she fells asleep draped over him made him feel a warm comfort he never experienced. This girl was intelligent, stubborn, charming, funny, and everything he felt he didn’t deserve.

When she is particularly lovely, whether or not she even did anything, he finds himself thinking about how wrong this all is. Not wrong in the sense it’s illegal or forbidden, but it’s wrong because she is so  _ good _ and he is so  _ bad _ .

He has to remind himself about why he is here, about why he is able to spend his Friday nights and Saturday mornings with such a woman. It’s because he messed up and he made deals with the devil.

His life in Columbia is distant, his life before Columbia is even farther away. Even though he’s in his hometown, he still suppresses his memories of his past here. At least Columbia is physically far away unlike Texas. Suppressing memories is hard, but when he’s with her, he can forget it all.

He can forget the fact that he left Lorraine at the altar. He can forget the fact that he has seen children die in the streets. He can forget the fact that he used to fuck his stress away with any woman, whether he was paying or flirting his way in. 

It was hard. But she made it all easier. 

\--- <3 ---

On a Tuesday evening, she found herself lugging herself to her apartment. The elevator was broken so she almost had to crawl up the stairs. 

She was emotionally and physically exhausted. It wasn’t often that she questioned her job choice. She knew she was a woman in STEM and that it would come with challenges. The sexual or secretary comments by coworkers could be overlooked, but it was worse when customers did it.

_ “So here’s the application. It’s pretty easy to run and you shouldn’t have much trouble with it. I can walk you through it right now actually.” _

_ Running through the tutorial went as well as it possibly could. The businessman seemed to have no trouble understanding the latest accounting software his company had just required. She installed it in all the computers in the office, which was a mere seven so it didn’t take long.  _

_ “In terms of training your employees on how to use it, I can come back another time if needed…” _

_ He was looking her over hungrily and it caused her to drawl off. She was uncomfortable as his eyes racked over her body. The way his eyes took her in was gross and she wanted to crawl away. _

_ “So, how about I take you out to dinner tonight?” _

_ “Umm… No thank you, I actually have to head back to the office to finish up some paperwork.” _

_ She goes to gather her belongings before he places a hand on her ass. She immediately moves away taken aback by his crudeness. _

_ “What the fuck!” _

_ “Listen baby, I didn’t mean to scare you--” _

_ He goes to move towards her, hands outreached. The thought of him touching her again makes her want to vomit. _

_ “I’m not a fucking baby. Back the fuck up.” _

_ His eyes immediately turn from apologetic to anger. It almost matches her own anger. But for different reasons. _

_ “Don’t be such a bitch.” _

It was a headache. When it came to coworkers, she could give them hell for it. But if it was a customer, she tried to endure the comments and be polite. After all, they were the ones writing the check. She knew pissing them off would cause the firm to lose a client.

So when she returned to the office, she was immediately reprimanded by her manager. “How dare you speak to a customer like that?” “He touched me!” “Doesn’t matter! That firm was a consistent client and now we’ve lost them.”

It was always her fault.

By the time she made it into her apartment, she headed straight for the medicine cabinet. She knew she should only have one, but she wanted to go away for a while.

So she took 1. But it wasn’t oxy. It was something stronger. Still the same family though. 

It didn’t take long for the fentanyl to kick in. She found herself giggling like a schoolgirl as she watched the TV.  _ Full House  _ was playing and the jokes weren’t even that funny but  _ damn that shit was funny _ .

In her head, it sounded like she was laughing her ass off as if her neighbor might come knocking and tell her to shut the fuck up. But in all reality, she was slumped over the couch as she exhaled through her nose when a joke hit really well. She had trouble keeping her eyes open but she was glued to the screen. Her body was tired and wanted sleep but she couldn’t stop watching.

_ Knock. Knock. _

She slowly sat up, staring at her front door.  _ Did the door just knock? _ She waited for the noise again as it was all she could focus on. The TV no longer made a peep and she couldn’t even hear her own breathing.  _ Am I tripping? _ Before anxiety could flood her system, another  _ knock _ came. 

Standing up, she fumbles her way to the door. What was normally an eight feet walk from the couch to the door quickly became a marathon. She struggled to focus on which foot to move.  _ Right, left, left, no right _ . The girl slammed into the door, nearly knocking her head on the hardwood. Her right hand grasped the handle, suddenly afraid her knees might give out and she would fall. She heard her name through the door.

“A-are you okay?” Javier sounded nervous. As she peeped through the hole, she saw the two foam to-go boxes in his hands as he looked around uneasily.

Opening the door was a challenge and she forgot which way to turn it. She needed to compose herself so she cleared her throat. Turning it the right way, the door opened and a nervous Javier smiled at her. 

“I should’ve called but I was on my way to get dinner and I thought you might like some.” He was shy as he stated it, holding the boxes off. It was cute, watching how shy he was about being affectionate.

“Javier Peña, you are literally the sweetest man I have ever met in my entire life.” She leaned towards him and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek setting off butterflies in his stomach. 

Pulling him inside, they settled on the couch and ate dinner while watching  _ Fun House _ . He didn’t realize it, but it was taking her a lot of energy to focus.

Between eating and watching the episode, she was struggling. He had brought street tacos, one of her favorites. She loved chorizo but he loved al pastor. He ate as if nothing was wrong, but bringing the food from her plate to her mouth was almost impossible. At one point, she almost missed her mouth. At another, she almost placed the taco on the couch rather than the plate. 

Whenever he laughed a the TV she laughed because in her head:  _ his laughter is actually contagious, maybe he has like laughing disease or something _ . He finished the food on his plate much quicker than she did despite him having more tacos than she did. That was the first thing he noted was off but he dismissed it as him showing up on a Tuesday unannounced. 

Eventually, they find their way into the kitchen. Javier being the gentleman he is, offered to do the dishes. She didn’t argue with him about it which was uncharacteristic of her, but she just didn’t think she could actually wash dishes in her state of mind. Instead, she walked into her room and flopped onto the bed. 

Fentanyl made her more fucked up than anything else. It had the relaxation of oxy but the sexual desire of molly. She wanted to continue to watch the TV and laugh her ass off, but she also wanted Javier to be between her legs. 

It wasn’t long before he unconsciously made the decision before her by walking into her room. Laid out on her bed, he took in her beauty. The room was dark, but the moonlight shining through the window made her glow. 

His lips were on hers in seconds as he leaned over her body, placing his hands on either side of her head for support. The kiss was slow and sloppy and as much as he tried to contain it more, he wasn’t able to. Sloppy often meant impatient when it came to them; but in this instance, it meant she was trying to focus but just couldn’t.

Her hands went to his chest, feeling his muscles flex underneath his shirt. It was a dark blue polo and any other time she would have noted how tight it was around his biceps, but not today. Her fingers scraped down his torso, reaching the hem of his shirt and immediately pulling it upwards. She wanted as much skin as possible.

Javier pulled from the kiss, pulling the shirt over his head and returning to her. Instead of going for her lips, he began to kiss along her neck. Normally the action would induce the sweetest moans from her lips, but this time, it sounded like she was barely breathing. 

He pulls away again and looks down at the girl with her eyes closed. Her chest rises and lowers so slowly that he wonders if she’s sleeping. Normally, him pulling away would lead her to protest.  _ “No Javi! Come back… please!” _

But this time she hardly seemed to notice the absence of his body on hers. Holding her chin between his thumb and index finger, he turned her face to look at him. Her eyes fluttered open as if she was just waking up.

“Are you okay?” He was concerned and he suddenly realized how glossy her eyes were. The darkness of the room and the sexual desire had her pupils blown; at least that’s what he thought was happening. 

“Y-yeah duh,” Her words were slurred and he realized that this was only the third time she spoke tonight. Her normal bubbly and expressive behavior was muted. “Javier… I think you-you should f-fuck… me.” 

At that, he stood up and walked from the bed. She groaned in protest and he noted how her eyes shut once again. Javier picked his shirt from the floor before pulling it on over his head. 

Walking around the bed, he pulls the covers back. “Hermosa, let’s get you to bed.” For the second time in what must have been two months of knowing each other, he was tucking her into bed again. As much as he wanted to get into bed and lie with her, he just couldn’t. She quickly snuggled into her pillow, smiling softly as she drifted off into a deep slumber. 

Javier thought she was drunk on a weeknight and he was flashed with his own memories of downing whiskey in the bullpen while working all-nighters. He knew the feeling of wanting to drown his sorrows but when he looked at her, he had a feeling it wasn’t alcohol. He knew what alcohol did and it wasn’t that, but perhaps the drinks affected her differently from everyone else he had ever known. Or maybe she had a thing for weed? But that didn’t look like weed. Maybe she smoked a joint then downed a glass. Yeah, we’ll go with that for now. 

But something about the look in her eyes, Javier had most definitely seen before. The duality of bliss and nothingness. He just wasn’t sure where he saw it. One day, he’ll remember. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, I am plugging my playlist for this fic:   
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1gW4arNBN65JSQZojYUNnA?si=8NZ26Fi_Qa-GmVAwXgGl_Q

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know your thoughts! I also wrote this in third person because I felt like using second person to describe drug use was wrong... but if people feel it would be better in first or 2nd, please let me know!


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